


The Blue Men of the Minch (what hides below the surface?)

by lvnaeclipse



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Minor Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Minor Ezor/Zethrid (Voltron), Mythology References, Sailor Keith, The Blue Men of the Minch, mermaid lance, mermaid/sailor au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-04 20:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17904815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvnaeclipse/pseuds/lvnaeclipse
Summary: He heaves in long and painful breaths as pieces of debris float past his partially submerged body. Torn clothes, round barrels, broken wooden panels. His mother’s knife. His father’s sword. A water damaged portrait of Keith as a baby. With one last struggle, Keith feels as his body goes limp, he has nothing left to give, no fight left. He chokes out a quiet sob as the strong grip that had been holding him up lets go. His fall is slow and halted by another pair of arms. A slow and cautious hand cups his face and a thumb drags beneath his eye to rub away the tears streaking down his cheek. Keith is only able to open his eyes for a split second before the dream comes to an end, a pair of striking blue eyes remains etched in his mind.





	1. and it hurts like hell to be torn apart

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic that I have publicly posted anywhere so I'm very nervous, but I worked really hard on it so I hope you enjoy :) I actually spent about 2 months doing research for this and plotting things out but knowing me a lot of things will change as I'm writing. 
> 
> Another note is that this story takes elements from the Scottish mythological creatures called the blue men of the Minch. The story really drew me in and was so intriguing, most of the elements of the mythology will feature in the story but if you want to read more about my inspiration here is a link to the wikipedia page (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_men_of_the_Minch). 
> 
> If you want to follow me for some wild antics my twitter is @lvnaeclipse and my art twitter is @lvnaeclipseart
> 
> Hope you enjoy and I hope I did these beautiful boys justice

Keith slept in sporadic moments; in the early hours of the dawning of the sun, when the crickets stationed by his window at the peak of the moon hummed him into unease, or even when he is mindlessly staring at the cracked ceiling above him pondering how much longer it would take to one day fall apart - the building in which he resided was in fact nearly 200 years old. As much as Keith felt that he was stuck in a past existence and time of being, he can’t fathom the multitude of bodies that had roamed this very room, who had dozed and awoken in perfect routine, who had lived and breathed in such ease that the world was at their very fingertips. He would certainly be envious of the fact if he could even comprehend their existence.

It was one of these very nights on which Keith's unsettled mind was overrun by the instinctual need to rest. Keith wouldn’t even call his moments of ‘rest’ as such due to the sheer amount of tension and anxiety they inherently caused him. This time was no exception.

Keith’s eyes are slowly lulled open by water lapping by his bare feet. The sun floods his vision and his eyes take a moment to readjust. Despite the initial brightness, the sun is disguised behind thick grey clouds that drape lazily across the horizon, they are menacing but seemingly pose no threat to the scene in front of him. He drags his gaze across the water, the waves pulse across the sea and break steadily along the shoreline where he is seated. The horizon is continuous in his field of vision and he dares to dream what is beyond the confines of his eyesight.

Whilst holding on to such thoughts, the horizon begins to shift. Within an instant the ocean is no longer bare of activity, it is swarming with the demons that haunt Keith’s mind. From just beyond their ghastly touch, a large ship settles carefully above the surface within a breaths distance of the sea. Keith’s eyes pour over the details of the ship. The wooden planks which form the structure of the ship are faded and all have a unique colour. He finally lays his eyes upon the carefully carved script along the aged planks near the stern. ‘The Kogane’. The inscription was enough to make Keith’s fists clench fiercely and for his insides to make an attempt at abandoning his body. His blood pumps at a dangerous rate and his jet black hair stands on end. He forces himself to look at the single demonic spirit that floats next to the ship. Despite having no discernible features, Keith could feel a wretched smile etch across its face as the ship dramatically plunges into the ocean.

The instant the ship meets the water the landscape begins to mould into something Keith can only describe as familiar. The grey clouds that loomed in the distance hang dreadfully low to the ground and produce pounding rain and thundering strikes of lightning, all the fury of nature is swallowing the scene whole. The sand that Keith had been siting on becomes damp, why is it damp? The chill Keith feels through his body numbs his senses to the water that has begun to swallow the entire coastline whole. Before he has time to even think, his whole body has been consumed by the sub-zero waters and he is fighting to keep his head above the surface. The tall waves of the ocean tower above him, he feels like he is drowning and unable to get the air into his lungs.

In an attempt to stay alive, Keith tries to find an island to swim towards but all that fills his sight is the ship that he has tried so hard to forget. Reluctantly, Keith musters all of his strength to swim towards the struggling ship. One motivation besides his looming demise is the faces the he can easily focus in on. They stand determined behind the large wheel of their ship, hair whipping away to the rhythm of the strong winds and their coats drenched by the salt water that cascades over the top of them. Their faces are bold, but Keith knows too well that they hide a fear. A fear of dying, a fear of losing the ship, a fear of losing their crew. A fear of leaving their son to fight the world on his own.

Keith’s chest seizes tightly and his hands instinctively clutches the flesh above his heart. His skin flushes and his eyes grow wide as another colossal wave makes its way towards them. Keith prepares as best as he can for the wave to pull him under, but it parts and travels around him. The consequential moments of confusion are quickly broken by ear piercing screams that permeate the air. Keith swivels himself around to pinpoint the source of the sound. The wave that had just passed over him is heading straight for The Kogane and its crew. The figures on the boat are minuscule, so insignificant in the face of such power that they are left to cower in its wake knowing there would be no chance of survival. In the final moments for the souls of the crew and their ship, Keith can’t help be refocus on the same two figures. They are so easy to distinguish, the woman’s face is slender and the short black hair that frames her face clings to her desperately, almost as desperately as the woman is to the man next to her. He is a large man, sturdy and stable, yet despite his protective and bold stance, Keith could feel the anguish and guilt he is feeling.

As the wave begins it descent, aiming straight for the boat in such a cruel way that Keith is forced to watch, not by choice but by some foul force. He can feel its writhing fingers holding his head in place and opening his eyelids, it keeps him afloat only so that Keith could experience a pain worse than death itself. The figures embrace for what they know will be their final breaths as the wave breaks over the deck of the ship. All that Keith can hear beyond the cracks of lightning is the harsh snapping of wood and the sullied screams of the crew.

“No!” Keith tries to scream and writhe against the force pinning him down, but the sounds and actions are quickly muffled.

He heaves in long and painful breaths as pieces of debris float past his partially submerged body. Torn clothes, round barrels, broken wooden panels. His mother’s knife. His father’s sword. A water damaged portrait of Keith as a baby. With one last struggle, Keith feels as his body goes limp, he has nothing left to give, no fight left. He chokes out a quiet sob as the strong grip that had been holding him up lets go. His fall is slow and halted by another pair of arms. A slow and cautious hand cups his face and a thumb drags beneath his eye to rub away the tears streaking down his cheek. Keith is only able to open his eyes for a split second before the dream comes to an end, a pair of striking blue eyes remains etched in his mind.

Keith finds himself in his small bunk. His long fringe is plastered to his forehead and his clothes feel particularly confining. His breaths are quick and shallow, and he can feel the temperature of his flushed skin against the cool sheets that are tangled around his limbs. In the distance, a rowdy crowd makes its way dazedly along the cobbled footpath, yelling merriments and slurring their cohesive words. The noise is enough to stir Keith from his dream induced stupor. He detaches himself from the mess his subconsciously controlled body made and wipes the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

It wasn't the first time Keith had had this same dream. It had been recurring since the accident happened nearly 10 years ago to the day. He had only been 12 years old.

Keith wanders only a few steps to the front door of his small abode and yanks his coat from the hook, it is a deep maroon colour - his mother had always said that the colour suited him and when he finally grew into his father’s coat he refused to wear any other.

Despite the extra layer the coat provided, it didn’t do much to deter the chill from penetrating the fabric and sending goosebumps across his pale skin. He crosses his arms protectively as strangers from all walks of life roam the streets, Keith presumes some for a good time, others for less pleasant reasons, he also suspects some people may have the same problem as himself. Walking had always given Keith a release for his emotions, like every step he took released a rigid chain around his chest - he could breath a little easier, think a bit clearer. Tonight felt so much more severe, the blue eyes of which he had seen so many times haunted him. He never knew if they were taunting him or attempting to comfort him, either way he was extremely unsettled. With this in mind, Keith deviates from his original walk around the town and turns toward the western end of town to find a familiar face.

After what feels like an eternity of walking, Keith arrives at a plain black front door, with a silver lion head carved as a door knocker. It had always been a welcome sight for Keith and took more of the edge off of him. He now realises that the man who was beyond the door may not be awake at this ungodly hour. Shrugging away the apprehension Keith reaches a fist out to knock the door, but before he can even make contact with the door it swings wide open to reveal a tall man with a partially healed scar across the bridge of his nose.

“Keith? Is it weird that I had a feeling something was wrong-?” Shiro is cut off by Keith flinging his arms around him and hugging him tightly, “I missed you too little brother. Come inside, its too cold for you to be outside.”

Shiro eyes him in a way Keith can immediately recognise of that of concern and worry, it was the last thing Keith wanted to do but being alone in times like these hurt even more so. He leads him through a short hallway into a quaint sitting area. Keith sits himself on the leather lounge and places his head in his hands, careful not to make eye contact with Shiro as he brews some tea for them only a few feet away.

“So what are you doing out this late at night?” Shiro inquires, sitting on the one-seater adjacent him. The sound of genuine concern pierces through any attempt Keith would make at lying to him, it forces another shallow sigh from him.

“It's those dreams, all I can see is …” the words falter from Keith’s mouth, his mind is filled with the vision of his parents clinging together, the fear in their eyes, their limp bodies floating in the water.

“Hey, Keith, don’t cry." Shiro hastily places his cup of tea on the edge of the table in front of them and places a re-assuring hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s really hard, maybe if we can talk through it, it will help you get past it?”

“I see their faces, I can see straight through to their souls, the terror they felt. The dream feels so real Shiro, something … someone in my dream made me watch the whole thing, I felt like drowning would’ve been less painful.”

“Do you remember the big fishing accident that happened just before all of this happened?” Shiro asks

“I think so, the one where you lost your arm?” Keith responds

“Right. Well, I still have vivid nightmares of that very day. Falling into the water, the shark swimming towards me, losing my arm. It feels like my memories are on repeat and its so cruel. Some nights, my mind is an ocean filled with my own blood and I can’t even force a breath in. But Keith, I couldn’t let it hold me back, I had to fight back. Just because something awful happened to me, doesn’t mean that I couldn’t get back out there, back to the ocean. It’s where I belong.” Shiro explains slowly, “Maybe we can find a way for you to fight it back. You are such a strong person Keith, I know you can beat these demons, and remember your parents the way they would’ve wanted you to.”

“I just don’t know if I can. I just wish I had some kind of closure. the circumstances of their death still make no sense to me!” Keith pulls the sleeve of white nightshirt over his hand and wipes underneath his eyes.

“I have an idea!” Shiro jumps out of his seat and rushes towards a cabinet that inhabits the corner of the living space. From the outside, it is so simplistic and worn that any thief would pass it over in an instant. However, once the doors are opened an indescribable beauty is revealed. The interior of the cabinet is carved in beautiful pictures of the Japanese landscape, from the countryside to the cherry blossoms that line the more populated towns. Each painted artwork seamlessly blends into another and is accented by gold leaf detailing and lightly toned paint strokes. Each time Shiro allowed him to see the closet, Keith had never been failed to be blown away in sincere awe.

Shiro initially begins sifting through a box engraved with mountains dusted with snow and surrounded by woods, with an intricate silver clasp. Keith watches intently as Shiro lifts up a map to find what he is searching for. The map is old and water-damaged, but Keith can clearly see his mother’s delicate handwriting detailing their specific sailing routes. Shiro had always told him that there was nothing else that was left for Keith besides the things that he had already received as part of the inheritance, Shiro didn’t lie did he? He would never lie.

“Ah here it is!” Shiro quickly spins on his heel and Keith lurches back so as to not cause any suspicion. Shiro had certainly been cautious when choosing the times Keith could look in the cabinet, and especially what he could touch. It took another short moment of contemplation for Keith to realise that Shiro had always directed his attention away from that box in particular. This time however, there was nothing Shiro could do to distract Keith from its existence, but for now he would fiend ignorance.

“Do you remember how I told you that your parent’s had owned another boat and that it was left for you when you were to come of age? Well I think that it’s finally time for you to take her out of the port. Mind you, I have taken her for a more than a few fishing trips. I know I will catch a golden brim one of these days.” Shiro mutters incoherently, “but that is completely besides the point. I think it’s time for you to lead the crew. The Marmora needs a new captain and you are certainly the finest of candidates.”

Keith is taken aback by his new possession. The Marmora is one of the finest boats in the British Isles. Her sails are pure white and her deck is pristine. It was know that the boat could cut through the tallest of waves and endure the gnarliest of storms. Keith had known that when he was of the right maturity and age he would inherit the ship his parent’s had held so dear. In the mean time, Shiro had been using the boat to continue the family business, catching the finest fish in the seas and selling them to the wealthiest of buyers from across the world. Keith can recall the multitude of people from all corners of the Earth travelling for miles upon miles just to do business with his parents.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to handle the business yet.” The blood drains from Keith’s face as the realisation dawns on him that he would have to take over the business from Shiro in the incoming years, perhaps even months. It wasn’t that he didn’t like sailing, he loved it. The freedom he felt on the ocean was comparable to nothing, but he couldn’t lead a crew, and he was certainly not the best fishermen the British Isles had seen. It was also perhaps that he didn’t want to tarnish the perfect legacy his parent’s had left behind.

“Keith, no matter what you decide I know your parent’s would be proud, and I am so very proud of you. If you decide to take the helm, the crew is yours and I will be there for you too. Perhaps we can take a short fishing expedition to the Little Minch.”

“Thanks Shiro, I appreciate it. But I think I will try to sleep on it. I have some considering to do.”

“Alright, well I’m always here if you need me.” Shiro attempts to stifle a yawn but spectacularly fails, “even if it is two o'clock in the morning. I’m heading off to bed, you can leave whenever you like, just remember to lock the clasp on the front door. Goodnight Keith.”

“Goodnight big brother, thank you for everything.” Keith watches as Shiro turns to deliver one last smile before disappearing into his bedroom.

As much as Keith loved Shiro, he didn’t love being lied to.

He shuffles quietly towards the cabinet that stares at him in what he feels to be a judgemental look. Obviously the cabinet has no face or feelings, but Keith couldn’t help but envision Shiro watching him with eyes all around the room tracked on him. He continues on nonetheless and pulls gently on the brass handles towards himself. He pays no mind to the beautiful interiors and all of the treasures that his parent’s had procured around him, his eyes are instantly glued to the small chest that Shiro had been shuffling through earlier.

The box is larger than Keith had anticipated and another point he had failed to see was that the chest was required a key to be opened. The silver clasp is encircled by a simple single key lock and could easily be picked, so in that moment Keith decides he will break the lock off when he returns home. He gently stuffs the box into a small satchel he had found haphazardly thrown on the floor and returns the scene to as it had been when Shiro had gone to bed. With that, he moves silently into the slightly less chaotic night, the chilled wind helps to ease his mind from the guilt of stealing from his brother. But sometimes answers to the most important questions proposed solving them in any means possible, and if that meant stealing, Keith would do it a thousand times over without a second thought.

The trip back to his room at the hostel was much quicker than the reverse, particularly because the burning curiosity from the object slung on his back was becoming too much to bear. As soon as his body catapults through the door he places the box on his desk and drags his chair as close as he can without his organs being crushed.

Keith stares at the locket that stands between him and the answers to the questions that he has been asking for almost ten years. It was all in front of him, unbearably out of reach. He runs his fingers across the beaming surfaces, the glow is mocking him in a way that only increases his frustration.

“Why is there a lock in the first place?” Keith prods at the mechanisms in the lock with a slim piece of metal, “and why isn’t this working?”

Keith twists the pin in all directions, carefully trying to discern the pattern of the missing key. No matter which combination he uses or how he manipulates the pin’s position, no mechanism forces the lock open.

“This is so ridiculous!” Keith slams the pin on the desk, his breathing is shallow and fast and he can feel the anger bubbling inside of him. He pushes the chest away with such force that is tips on on its back. Keith doesn’t even want to give it any more attention, hoping that the silent treatment he gives it will give him a new angle to approach the lock. Unexpectedly, it does exactly that.

Keith decides to break his silence as his curiosity overwhelms him once again and he peers at the bottom of the chest. At first he doesn’t see anything, it just appears as it does from any other side. He leans forward anyway as a minute engraving captures his eye. The script is so small that it would easily be passed over by a casual glance and it is extremely difficult to read even when you are focused in on it.

“What are you hiding?” Keith asks, squinting to try and aid his vision, “The key to what you desire, is within you little fire … Little fire.”

The two words Keith hadn’t heard in so long stuck a chord deep within him, that he had desperately been trying to repress. His mother had said those two words to him so tenderly, full of love and heart just for him. He remembers in the week before his mother and father’s passing on the sea, his mother had sat him down to gift him something. Of course, being 12 years old, Keith hadn’t felt the gravity of such a gesture and reflecting back now, his heart simultaneously warms and sinks to the bottom of his stomach. His mother had whispered to him, so sincerely, ‘One day the little fire that you are will blaze so beautifully and brightly, I know you have an incredible future ahead of you. My little fire, I love you so much, you remember that.’ The tears prickled the edges of his eyes and threatened to spill over the banks of his eyelids.

Keith solemnly pushes himself away from the desk towards the dresser beside his bed. He slides the first drawer out and lays his eye on the silver necklace that is coiled delicately behind some of his most important belongings. But nothing felt more important to him in this moment than this very necklace. He reaches towards it but hesitates, he hadn’t worn the necklace, let alone touched it since his parents passed, he cared too much about it and never wanted to lose it. A voice inside him considers his hesitation, but what is the point in protecting the things we hold so dear when they were made to be worn, made to be a reminder of the things that you love and even the people that you’ve lost. He defies years of his own logic and pain and grasps the necklace, bringing it close to his heart, closer than it has ever been before.

He studies it knowingly, flicking his finger over the small charm connected to the thin chain. His mother had gone to the local blacksmith, and asked for a silver chain to be made for a pendant that resembled a small ball of fire. He urges his skin of his fingertips to feel the groves in the charm, each line forming a tendril of the flames. The most precious part of the necklace was easy to identify. At the centre of the ball of fire is a modest red gemstone, a garnet his mother had come to own through rigorous bartering with one of the most notorious traders in all of Europe. He was well traveled, but she was quick witted and of the highest level of intelligence - it was the slightest of challenges for her.

She had always told him that the stone represented a fire that had existed since the beginning of time itself, a fire that she believed resided within his very spirit. She had told him that when he wore this necklace, it would light up the night and protect him from the nightmares she knew that he had intermittently suffered throughout his childhood. His mother had also assured him that it would protect him on his all of his travels and prevent accidents whenever he is far from home.

The fire charm was not the only thing that was strung on the silver chain. A small silver key hangs delicately and innocently enough on the chain. His mother had never told him what the key was for or what it would unlock, he had always assumed that it was decorative. But now everything finally fell into place.

Keith carries himself away from the bedside with his necklace in hand. H shakily takes the key in his hand and slots it into the lock. For a moment he stands still, pondering what lies ahead of him. The curiosity that had boiled inside of him mellows to a feeling of intense fear and realisation. Nevertheless, he turns the key to hear a short click. He removes the key and carefully clasps the necklace around his neck, careful not to catch his long hair in the clip.

_Breathe._

With trembling hands, Keith lifts the lid of the chest.

A map, drawings of the ship and the captain’s - his parent’s - logs. Every piece of evidence that Keith needed to piece together the specific circumstances of his parent’s death was piled neatly together before him. How did any of this survive? And how did Shiro get his hands on it?

The first thing Keith analyses is the map. The terrain it documents is unfamiliar to Keith’s personal experiences but he can easily recognise the infamous waters of The Minch. Infamous for its ever-changing mood, one minute the calmest of seas and the next the most notoriously dangerous waters that even the most experienced sailors couldn’t survive. Keith quickly inhales as he forgets to breathe. He knows more answers hide in plain sight, in his parents’ log.

The leather bound journal has clearly seen better days, worn at the edges and its pages yellow from the sea water that had breached the chest’s walls. On its cover in carefully scripted writing is his parents’ names, Akira and Krolia. He gently folds the cover back and reads the passages made by his mother and father.

 

_February 5th, 1854_

 

_Our journey of the perilous Minch has begun. We begin this voyage with the intention of catching a substantial haul of fish that we intend to sell to the highest bidder. Besides this fact, we also intend to search for the mysterious Golden Brim, which is said to inhabit these waters. This fish is the rarest in all of the British Isles and will surely fetch a high price at the trading post in Scotland._

_The weather as we embark is typical for a winter’s day in this region, overcast and extremely chilled. The air is brisk but it fills our sails. My lovely wife and the co-captain of The Kogane is on deck steering us further into the Minch. I will write again tomorrow of the bounty we have obtained and with any other reporting._

 

_Akira Kogane_

 

“This all seems ordinary enough, perhaps I should skip closer to the end of the log,” Keith mumbles the suggestion to himself as he skims over his father’s first entry.

 

_February 15th, 1854_

_It is our tenth day on the Minch and we are yet to find a substantial amount of fish to bring back to the trading post. Akira is beginning to become frantic in his search for the Golden Brim, he was so sure that this journey would be the one where he found at least a single Brim. The weather is still extraordinarily clear despite the low hanging clouds and the cold temperatures. We were certainly expecting a much rougher journey. We planned to head back to the main island tomorrow, but the fine weather is tempting us to continue our journey for another few days._

_One abnormality keeps making itself known and I’m not quite sure how to document such superstitions. The crew keeps making reports to me of a human like figure circling our boat, his skin is tanned and covered in light blue freckles. They try to tell me that the figure has a great blue tail that reflects brightly against the few rays of sunshine that puncture through the clouds. Such reports make me wonder if someone on crew has somehow snuck prohibited items onto the vessel. It certainly provided me with some humour for the day._

_I will make a report tomorrow with our decision and make an update on our search for the Golden Brim._

_Krolia Kogane_

 

“This is the second last entry and everything seems well, besides the strange hallucinations of the crew. Where did it go wrong?” Keith asks himself and hesitantly flips the page. The handwriting is unlike anything on the previous water stained pages, it is messy and frantic.

 

_February 16th, 1854_

 

_Something grave is happening today and I have no way to explain it. The crew’s hallucinations have been increasing at an alarming rate and the descriptions have become even more wild in their nature. They see blue men and women with long tails circling the boat. I have scanned the depths below on multiple occasions and fail to see what they have been seeing. Besides the crew’s crazed state, the weather has taken an unexpected turn for the worse. I think we have made the wrong decision in staying another day._

_Everything has changed, only an hour ago the sky was bright and full of promise, and now the sea begs for another meal and I fear that we are it. This may be the last log if the weather continues. As I write the boat is stirring violently and I can hardly keep myself at the desk. There is a lot of shouting coming from the deck, I must leave now._

_If this is my last entry, I hope to every deity and spirit that exists that my son will be able to find this book, I want him to know that we love you with our whole hearts, stay strong my little fire._

 

_Krolia_

 

“No this can’t be it! What happened I must know!” Keith hastily flips through the empty pages of the book. Every page his eyes lay on is empty, completely desolate of any words and explanation. “How did the weather change in such an instant, why were the crew so incredibly incompetent? This isn’t fair.” A deep sob rakes itself from Keith’s throat and this time he allows the tears to spill down his cheeks and onto the pages of the log. He knew he would be confronted when looked through the journal, but this hurt so much more than he was anticipating.

He struggles through the tears to throw the journal back into the chest. As the journal successfully lands back into the chest, a small blue scale falls out from between the pages. The translucent scale shimmers in the low light of the room and catches his eye. It is peculiar and gives Keith more unanswered questions to grapple with. He palms it in his hand and runs his fingertips over the smooth surface. Keith wonders if his parents had caught a large fish with these beautiful scales, he decides it must have some kind of importance if his parents had kept it in their journal, so he pierces a small hole towards the top of the scale and threads it on the silver chain around his neck. It rests perfectly between the fire charm and silver key.

That night, he lays in bed and wills on another perilous night of sleep that he is determined to make his way through. He mulls over Shiro’s offer, a fishing trip to the Little Minch is suddenly becoming more and more appealing.


	2. loneliness is a sign you are in desperate need of yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance can’t remember his first breaths, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes or even where his chubby little body took him on his first adventure. The first memory he could fathom was from when he was five years old. He could remember his mother’s sparkling ocean eyes. Her tan skin that shone radiantly against the rays of sun light filtering through the clouds, her hazelnut hair that made perfect cascading waves on her shoulder exactly like the ones on the ocean. He could picture her pearly white smile, and Lance knew for a fact it was like pearls because he had a small collection of pearls from all corners of the ocean. The freckles on her face could create any constellation in the sky and whenever Lance looked at the surface of the ocean like a mirror, he saw all the light from the stars in her eyes shine through in him. Of course he wasn’t exactly like his mother, much to his dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is chapter 2, I really hope everyone enjoys. A few notes before you start reading: all of the places mentioned are real! And the course that they take can actually be sailed. I researched each place, sailing ships from the 1850's, sailing conditions and the landscape of each port. I'm not well versed in 19th century sailing in Scotland but I sure tried my best.
> 
> I also want to say thank you for the kudos and comments! It really means the world to me that something I am working so hard on is being enjoyed by others <3 
> 
> If you want to follow me for some wild antics my twitter is @lvnaeclipse and my art twitter is @lvnaeclipseart
> 
> Hope you enjoy all the gays on one ship interacting, it gets wild.

It has been exactly a week since Keith had had one of the worst nightmares that he has ever experienced in his life. The physical and mental struggle that he was forced to endure that night is something that will never leave him be, but nevertheless will motivate him to keep moving forward to find as many answers as he can.

Within that week, Keith has spent his time conjuring a plan that could help provide all of the answers he would need. It was relatively simple, but admittedly deceptive in its nature. The one thing that had also been tormenting Keith within this week was also the fact that he was finally going to inherit the Marmora and its crew that Shiro had formed over the years. Despite his hesitation over the subject, Keith knows when he must put aside his apprehensions to achieve a greater goal. A trip to the Little Minch was too appealing to dismiss.

Keith rolls onto his side and kicks the thin sheets from his body. The beautiful Japanese box that he had stolen sits isolated on his bedside table. Every time his eyes wander to the chest, he feels himself recoil instinctively, but this time he must bear the pain. He grasps the key that hangs from his necklace and unlocks the lid. His hands make quick work of pulling out the map that his parents had used to navigate their way through the Minch. His mother typically created the routes that they would use to navigate the waters they trawled. He gave silent thanks for her immense detailing of their journey and began studying the map.

His mother had planned their journey from the port in Lochmaddy, where generations upon generations of his family had kept their ships, including _The Marmora_. The town also happened to be their home. Keith sighs thankfully, he knows the terrain of the Little Minch well enough to at least have some idea of where to take the ship. His mother’s strokes of ink across the page indicate that they sailed along the coastline of the Isle of Lewis and through the Sound of Shiant. Keith recalled that these Isles were privately owned by another elite family in Scotland, any journey taken through such waters would cost a high price. Luckily for Keith, his parents had already forged connections with the family so he could easily pass as long as he rekindles these connections. Once the ship makes it through the Sound of Shiant they would be in the waters of The Minch. He runs his hands over the dried ink, the dotted lines stop close to Tiumpan Head, about 20 kilometres from the headlands. 

“I wonder if this is where the boat disappeared. There is a chance that the wreck is still there, although the water would be too deep to know.” Keith hums to himself curiously, “If I sail the same route, I can discover what really happened.”

Keith takes a notebook from the first drawer of his bedside table and begins writing details and facts that he is certain of surrounding the death of his parents.

 

  * _The Minch is the place of death and where the ship was destroyed_
  * _They were experienced sailors who had been sailing for their whole lives._
  * _The route that was taken was familiar for them, although they had only sailed as far as the mergingof the Little Minch and the Minch in previous expeditions_
  * _Crew was hallucinating at the time of the shipwreck_
  * _Rapidly changing weather (unexplained)_
  * _Blue men in the water (unexplained and_ _impossible_ _)_



 

Keith holds the page in front of him, analysing each point in order to discern some kind of explanation. He still can’t comprehend the change in the weather, the hallucinations and even the fact that his parents were known to be two of the best sailors in the British Isles. Nevertheless he sets the notebook into his coat pocket and decides to revisit its pages when he is on the ocean.

When Keith had realised that to learn more of his parents’ death, he would have to go searching for answers, he hastily told Shiro the day after his nightmare that he would captain the expedition to the Little Minch. Of course, it was all a rouse to execute his real plan. He would take the crew and the boat to the Little Minch to make it seem as if he they were trawling for fish, and that is when their real expedition will begin. They will follow his mother’s designated route along the coastline into the Minch and research the conditions and make note of everything that could have occurred that fateful day. 

Shiro was extremely taken aback by Keith’s sudden enthusiasm, but as he always does he took it in his stride and told Keith that he would round up the crew within the next few days for him to meet. He had met many of the crew members in passing and sometimes around town, but he had never been properly introduced. Deceiving people he doesn’t know well was one thing, but deceiving his older brother was a whole other that he would have to push past to complete the mission. He brushes all of these thoughts aside and begins his walk to the pub that resides less than a kilometre from his home.

It doesn’t take long for Keith to make it to the bar, between the short distance he has to travel and the longer than usual strides he takes to get there a little bit faster. Upon entering the charming little bar, appropriately named The Little Hook, Keith can see his new crew sat collectively at a table tucked into the corner. They are sharing in a round of alcohol and cheering loudly at one another and when their eyes land on Keith the cheering increases exponentially. Ladies and men of whom some he recognised arose to welcome him to the table, firmly clapping him on the back and hollering his name.

“Keith! I guess I better introduce you to your new crew," Shiro laughs loudly and smiles widely at Keith 

“He doesn’t own any of us,” a shorter girl adjusts her wide glasses and looks at him quizzically.

“Pidge, you know that’s not what he means,” a larger man with an orange bandana tied to his forehead harshly whispers to the girl, Pidge, Keith assumes.

“I know,” the girl steps forward and holds her hand out abruptly in an offer of greeting, “The name’s Katie, but you can call me Pidge. Bandana man is Hunk.”

“Hunk? Is that a nickname?” Keith looks at the man stepping forward to greet him.

“Sure is, I actually can’t remember the last time anyone used my real name.” Hunk rubs the back of his neck slightly embarrassed. “My real name is actually-”

“I’m James Griffin,” James interrupts Hunk in a way that already annoys Keith but he brushes it aside. “And this is my best friend Kinkade, first name Ryan but he prefers the former.” The man named Kinkade merely nods in his directions and turns back to the plate of food in front of him.

Keith nods and turns his attention to three girls standing together ready to introduce themselves, “And you ladies are?”

“Three lesbians in a bar,” a woman with dark cropped hair and a smirk on her face slyly says, “Don’t even bother trying to hit on any of us”

“Wasn’t intending on it, you know I’m gay right?”

“I do now. I’m Axca,” she grips his hand firmly and then nods in the direction of the two other girls.

“I’m Ezor and this is my girlfriend Zethrid,” Ezor is slim and taller in stature, she wears bright colours that he personally would never wear but suited her. Her girlfriend, Zethrid, is muscular and clearly has an affinity for the colour purple. 

“That’s everyone Keith,” Shiro glances at Keith recognising he was probably slightly overwhelmed by all of the new faces, “Don’t worry too much, they’ll warm up to you pretty quickly.” 

“Well they are certainly something,” Keith responds. His heart is hammering in his chest and his heart beat is ringing loudly in his ears. He isn’t the most competent in social situations but he tries his best. He knows in this situation he shouldn’t be too worried about first impressions though, he just needs them to help him get the ship to the Minch.

“So whats the plan, captain?” Pidge looks at Keith skeptically over the rims of her glasses, if anyone was going to catch Keith out before they got on to the ocean it would certainly be the youngest member of his crew. He doesn’t need to ask many questions to know that she is extremely intelligent.

“Well, we are going to depart from Lochmaddy tomorrow at noon, heading east into the Little Minch,” Keith mulls over his cover plan in his head before continuing on, “We will be looking to catch anything of substantial value, cod may be our best hope. As a side venture, we will also be looking for the Golden Brim.”

“The Golden Brim?” Pidge barks out humorously, “You’re just like Shiro, do you guys seriously believe that it is real?” 

“Why not? There is said to be many things that lurk below the surface, beyond what our two eyes can fathom. Who is to say that a rare golden fish is beyond the realm of possibility?” Kinkade speaks with a deep voice from juts beyond the group, he is still occupied with his soup, twirling his spoon around in the steaming liquid.Keith raises an eyebrow in response, he is the last person that Keith expects to retort Pidge. 

“As long as there is good sailing conditions, I don’t have a care for what we are searching for,” Hunk admits.

“There is no telling but we must be prepared for everything as we always do. Remember, Hunk we need you to test the rigging tomorrow,” Shiro commands. “Alright, get some rest crew, tomorrow we sail the Little Minch.”

The small crew begins to disperse from the bar and each member heads their separate ways, as Keith watches them pass by his hand subconsciously moves to his necklaces and begins toying with the charm and scale. He hadn’t quite noticed until Shiro joins him.

“That’s a really nice necklace you’ve got there, where did you get it?” 

“Oh this?” Keith looks down at the charms between his fingers, he carefully cups the chains and clasps his hand around it protectively, “I found it at a trading post in town, nothing special.”

Shiro looks uncertain at first and Keith is positive that he knows that he stole the box, he would've had to have noticed by now. He would’ve had to have recognised the key that unlocks the box, or the fact that he is suddenly wearing a necklace to begin with. But his worries quickly fade as Shiro’s look of genuine concern moulds into a toothy grin.

“It suits you. You should wear it more often.” Shiro pats his shoulder and walks away from the bar into the icy air of the starry night. 

Keith can feel the guilt writhing inside of his stomach, it clenches at his very core and grips so hard that he wants to collapse in on himself. He removes his gloves with the hopes that the bone-chilling air would cut through the guilt, but its presence fails to waiver and remains sturdy in his heart. The only motivation that keeps him going is finding some kind of conclusion to his parents death, to find some kind of closure from himself and all of the people that were touched by his parents’ lives. He decides once again to push the worries away and hope to all of the deities he can think of that he can pull through his deceitful expedition.

 

 

* the next day *

 

 

Keith paces anxiously back and forth in his modestly sized captain’s cabin. He glances around the room to try and find something to focus his mind on besides the unease in his stomach. The walls of the cabin are minimally decorated, with only a few artworks hung by his parents, that they had collected over several expeditions across the European continent. Each features a distinctive stylistic tone and form that means that Keith can easily identify the name of the work, the artist and the year in which they were painted. Beyond the paintings, there was a large cabinet in the corner of the room, tucked neatly behind his desk. 

He steps towards the cabinet and opens its doors, the anticipation of the moment bubbles in his throat. He isn’t sure what he is expecting to find beyond the doors but he is certainly let down. The shelves are coated in a thick layer of dust that floats in the air as the door swings open. Keith sputters out a cough and waves his hand defensively in front of his nose, he heaves out an exasperated sigh and closes the doors once again. From the untouched cabinet he waltzes sluggishly back to his chair and slumps clumsily into it. His satchel sits against the leg of the desk and from it he pulls his parents' log and the map. He spreads the map carefully across the desk and weighs the edges down with two glass paperweights. He quietly tucks his parent’s journal into the first drawer and closes it without second thought. 

He contemplates the journey ahead. It could prove perilous and difficult, but he finally believes that he ready to accept the challenge. He not only had to do it for himself, but he had to protect his parents' legacy. As his thoughts stew continuously inside of him, a knock on the door startles him, it is quick and the door swings open giving him no time for a second thought.

“Captain! We are ready to set sail,” Hunk stands beaming with his hands firmly plastered to his sides, “Oh I didn’t interrupt something did I?” 

Keith can’t help but wear a bewildered look on his face, which quickly turns into an uneasy smile, “No, no Hunk, everything is fine. But if you don’t mind, please wait for me to beckon you in before entering.” 

“No problem Captain. As I was saying the crew is ready to leave port, Pidge is working on our trawling equipment, she thinks she has found a breakthrough that will make the fishing much more efficient. Axca is up the main mast reviewing the sails from above and Ezor and Zethrid are climbing the shrouds to check the sails at closer proximity. Griffin and Kinkade are below deck taking stock of our provisions and supplies and I believe I saw your brother on deck checking the guns,” Hunk rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet and the motion is enough to make Keith dizzy. “Also I may have made some … additional attachments to your ship.” 

Keith’s nose scrunches up and he tilts his head slightly confused by the broad mans statement, “What do you mean by attachments?”

“Well, I have been closely following the developments of the steam engine, its rather interesting. They have started developing screw-propellors. I thought to make our journey more efficient I would try and build one for the ship. It should work a charm, I’m not sure if Shiro told you, but I’m quite skilled.” Hunk plays with a piece of smudged cloth in his hands and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“Very well, thank you Hunk. Although please notify me of any other changes before you make them. It seems as if were are ready to depart now, so if you will excuse me, we will get on our way,” Keith’s attempt at a smile falters and he quickly passes Hunk without another word. He can feel the other man’s eyes following him as he leaves and he picks up his pace to avoid the oncoming scrutiny and questioning. It is the last thing he needs right now.

“Alright crew, we are finally ready to depart. Axca, Ezor, Zethrid, get us out of the port! Hunk, start the- what was it called again? Whatever its name, please start it up.” Keith takes his place at the large wooden wheel situated in the middle of the small mezzanine level outside of his cabin. His palms are slick with sweat and he can feel the sweat beading on his forehead. He combs his fingers through his long hair and pulls it back into a haphazard low pony tail. The sails are hastily deployed and he can feel the ship being ushered forwards by the strong winds. The familiar tug of the waves and wind working in harmony fills Keith with ease, he is one with the ocean and it is one with him.

For only a few moments, the ship sails smoothly forward, the bow slicing the waves and trailing away at a sluggish pace from where the boat was docked. The moment is interrupted as the boat shudders and creaks, Keith can feel the change through his body. The ship begins slowly picking up the pace, aided by some other force that gives it that extra push.

“I did it! It works! Can you feel the rush of the air, the speed of our ship?” Hunk leaps onto the deck and swings on the foremast and shrieks excitedly.

“Is this your new machine Hunk?” Pidge runs across the deck and pats him on the shoulder, “Absolutely incredible, wait until you have seen what I have done to the trawler. Together, we will make this ship unstoppable.”

“A good crew is what makes the ship, not the sum of its material parts,” Shiro wanders up behinds them and both crew members jump slightly from the new presence.

“Shiro, why are you aboard this ship? You should join the hermits in the caves, you can help them with their philosophising,” Pidge rolls her eyes and heads back towards the main mast to help Axca with the riggings. Keith is amused by the interaction on the lower deck, especially because his big brother is being put in his place by someone so much younger than him.

Keith decides that it is not the time for laughing, as he has one of the most difficult tasks of navigating the ship through the shallow Lochmaddy port. The reefs were notorious for tearing ships apart and giving no mercy to even the most experienced of navigators in this very area. 

“Griffin I need eyes on the reefs. How is our course?” Keith yells from the helm 

“Straight ahead captain!” Griffin hangs precariously over the edge of the ship, observing the waters below and Keith trusts that his vision and brain is capable. 

“Oh shit, left, left now!” Griffin kicks his legs and flails his arms pointing left and Keith quickly responds by veering the ship left, the rudder changing direction just in time to avoid the coral framing the rocky outcrops above and beneath the surface. The crew merely glances up and quickly goes back to their tasks. 

“We are clear of the port Keith.” 

“Onwards, to the Minch,” Keith announces to the crew. At the silence he receives he quickly looks down at the crew. He is met with slightly confused looks and more than a few hands on hips. 

“The Minch? I though we were headed for the Little Minch,” Shiro has his only arm perched on his hip and his face is scarily stern. Keith suddenly realises the very imminent and possible threat of mutiny, on his first ever voyage as captain. 

“I- uh. Well…” Keith stumbles on his words, why was he doing this? Was it worth dragging all of these people to the sea, facing possible mutiny in revealing his true plans? Keith wouldn’t say he was the most unintelligent person in the world, but his reckless nature begged to differ. “You heard me.”

Keith can’t believe that his body and mind are betraying him so, but he decides that there is no better option than to join in the madness, dramatically turning the ship north bound with a spin of the large wheel in front of him. The bow swings slowly but the change in direction catches the crew off guard, and each member stumbles unceremoniously to the deck. 

“What is going on? Shiro this is supposed to be a fishing trip. He is a madman!” Axca quickly jumps to her feet and runs to help Shiro from the ground.

“There has to be a reason.” Shiro mutters to Axca, but mostly to himself, perhaps trying to convince even his own mind that Keith would have some good intentioned motivation for this.

“I knew he wasn’t fit to be captain! What does he even know?” James struggles to find his footing, but he quickly gains ground and is facing Keith’s scowling face.

“Don’t do something you will regret Griffin, I have to do this,” Keith subtly brings his hand to the hilt of his sword. The black leather hilt is familiar in his hands and gives him the fighting urge he needs.

“You have to do what?” Griffin mirrors Keith’s actions in a much less subtle way, extravagantly reaching for his own sword as a form of a challenge for the captaincy. “I knew the rumours about your family were true. You are all mad! No wonder they died, if they are anything like you. You want to go to the Minch right? Are you finally ready to join them?”

“You will regret that you fucking bastard.”

Keith makes the first stride, pulling his sword from the hilt at his belt and swinging upwards at Griffin’s badly held defensive position. The swords clatter together, and the sound sends an awful wave of silence across the crew. Keith realises that while Griffin does have some fighting skills, most of what he knows is for show. The boy tries striking at Keith, aiming the edge of his blade at Keith’s heart. He easily deflects it and advances once more to Griffin. The pure rage that Keith feels can only be expelled with each aggressive swing of his sword. All he wants is vengeance, for the absolute scum of the sea to pay for his words, to feel just a slither of the pain that he feels. Griffin’s weak and amateur attacks are useless against Keith’s rage and skill, falling flat against the strength and persistence of his blade. Within minutes, Griffin is pinned against the edge of the ship. Keith makes one final move to disarm him and the shorter silver sword flies from Griffin’s grip and imbeds in the deck only a few metres away.

“You are shameful Griffin, and for your words I expect your undying loyalty or your life,” Keith scowls deeply and bares his teeth at the worryingly calm look Griffin displays.

“I’ll take neither,” Griffin smiles wickedly as a small dagger slips from his shirt sleeve into his palm. Before Keith can react, Griffin slashes upwards and cuts Keith’s skin from the jaw to the top of his cheeks. The blood flows from his face swiftly and all Keith can do is watch as he withdraws his free hand from his cheek to see bright red blood covering his fingertips.

“Keith!” Keith can hear Shiro screaming his name but nothing can stop him now.

He sturdies the blade in his hand and aims directly for Griffin’s chest. He propels his arm forward but before he can see his sword deliver the final blow, the world fades to darkness. All he can feel is the laceration in his cheek and a pounding pain on the crown of his head.

A pair of deep blue eyes ushers him into unconsciousness and he welcomes the unknown once more.

 

* * *

 

Lance can’t remember his first breaths, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes or even where his chubby little body took him on his first adventure. The first memory he could fathom was from when he was five years old. He could remember his mother’s sparkling ocean eyes. Her tan skin that shone radiantly against the rays of sun light filtering through the clouds, her hazelnut hair that made perfect cascading waves on her shoulder exactly like the ones on the ocean. He could picture her pearly white smile, and Lance knew for a fact it was like pearls because he had a small collection of pearls from all corners of the ocean. The freckles on her face could create any constellation in the sky and whenever Lance looked at the surface of the ocean like a mirror, he saw all the light from the stars in her eyes shine through in him. Of course he wasn’t exactly like his mother, much to his dismay.

The difference really started appearing on his 12th birthday. The freckles that were dotted across his the arch of his nose and around his checks began to drastically change. The light brown colour quickly transformed into bright blue speckles that would glow under certain circumstances. When he was scared they would glow navy, when he was happy they would glow bright blue and when he was angry they would glow the deepest shade of blue like the ocean in the eye of a storm. The changes weren’t alienated to his face, the sides of his neck were wrapped in iridescent blue scales that seamlessly blended into his tan skin.

When Lance first discovered the changes on a slow Sunday morning, his whole world changed. His first thought was that he had a disease and that his face would be forever ruined. His terrified sheiks filled the McClain household and his mother ran into his room without a second delay. In retrospect, Lance knew that his mother was preparing for that day, and even with bouts of rehearsal and thinking she was ready, she was still unprepared to handle Lance’s unpredictable reaction. In only a few minutes his mind had run through every emotion known to man. He was scared of what it all meant, excited that he had blue freckles, angry that his face looked different, and extremely confused. His mother knew exactly what he was feeling because of the new otherworldly markings on his face.

“Lance, I promise it’s okay, you have nothing to worry about,” his mother had said ever so calmly, but Lance couldn’t look at her in the eyes, he was still terrified. How could she be so sure that everything was okay?

“How do you know? I could be dying!” Lance retorted and shrivelled in on himself, plastering his small palms to his cheeks.

“Lance, please listen to me,” she swivelled Lance’s small frame around and cups her hands around his own and pulls them away tenderly. “I haven’t been honest with you mijo. You aren’t like me, or anyone else in the world. You are so very special.”

“You always say that mum,” Lance smiled in response

“Not exactly dear,” his mother hesitated for a second before deciding to continue, “Remember how I told you that your father lived across the ocean, far away?”

Lance nodded slowly, “Yes, but what does he have to do with my face?”

“Well, your father is actually much closer than you may imagine,” his mother visibly braced for Lance’s reaction but he sat deadly still.

“What do you mean?”

“What I’m saying is, your father lives in Scotland. In fact, he lives in the Minch.”

Lance laughed out loud, rocking back and forth in uncontrollable laughter, “Are you crazy, mother? I never suspected you would crack a joke in such dire times. My face is literally blue!”

“This isn’t a joke, Lance. I think you need to be with your father for a while, your face will certainly not be the last of the changes,” the tears had began to streak down his mother’s face and despite everything that was starting to unfurl in front of him, Lance reaches a shaky hand to wipe away the tears.

“We can get through this mother. You are true and kind and I know that whatever this is, you will help me through it.”

“Oh I wish I could Lance, but my knowledge has its bounds, and your father certainly didn’t leave me an instruction manual,” she laughed slightly and then took in another breath, “I think we need to go for a quick sail on the Minch.”

“So how does my father live in the Minch?” Lance inquired

“You will soon see Lance, I promise. But for now you must get prepared,” his mother quickly wiped away the tears in her eyes and began the preparations for their short journey.

A journey that Lance would not return from.

 

* * *

 

Keith blinks his eyes sloppily, the world is shifting and spinning around him and he can’t quite focus on anything. The sounds of the ocean swirl together with mumbling voices and the sound of birds flying overhead.

“We can’t just-”

“Then who-”

The voices are getting louder, despite the hushed tone that they are speaking in. He tries to blink a few more times in rapid succession and with that the world becomes clearer.

“Keith!” Shiro leaps forward and crouches down next to him. Keith tries to hug Shiro when he realises that he is slumped against the foremast with his hands bound behind him.

“What is this? Where is the rest of the crew?” Keith tries to pry his hands from the bounds and looks up at Shiro desperately, “Did you do this? We have to go to the Minch!”

“Keith calm down. The crew decided collectively to tie you up, I had to oblige despite not wanting to myself. We are just trying to figure out the best course of action, but you must explain yourself,” Shiro says calmly, clearly trying not to further aggravate Keith, but he is already way beyond that.

“Look, my parent’s died in the Minch and I need to know for myself what killed them! I found the box of their belongings you were keeping from me. Their logs create so many questions that I have to answer. If that means taking the Marmora and its crew there, I have to do it, you must let me complete my mission,” Keith desperately struggles but eventually sits completely still, “Please Shiro.”

“I’m not the one that needs convincing. Perhaps you need to speak to the person you stabbed, the person who knocked you out and the crew that tied you up,” Shiro says taking a small knife from his pocket and slicing through the ropes binding Keith to the mast. “Tell them the truth, they don’t like being lied to but they are a, mostly, decent group of people. And I’m sorry about keeping the box from you, I shouldn’t ahve. I was just worried that seeing the logs would open old wounds that I didn’t realise where never healed.”

“Thanks Shiro, I understand and its okay,” Keith stands up shakily and ensures his balance before facing the backend of the ship where the crew are working. Keith notices that the anchor had been deployed and they were close to the coastline. He could recognise that they had made some progress in their journey towards the Minch but there is still a long way to go, and he can’t make the distance without the crew.

“Who untied you?” Ezor jumps down from the shrouds onto the lower deck, she strides towards Keith but maintains her distance.

“Shiro did,” Keith isn’t the best at public speaking nor is he the best captain, but he must be to get everyone to the Minch. “I want to tell you all the truth, the full and complete truth behind this expedition. It is not a fishing trip to the Little Minch. I have deceived you all and for that I am sorry. My intentions were to sail to the Minch.”

“The Minch is some of the most dangerous waters in all of the British Isles,” Axca says with her arms folded across her chest

“She isn’t wrong, the Minch is unpredictable in nature and it is said that disturbing horrors lurk beneath the surface,” Hunk says nervously, fidgeting with a piece of scrap rope.

“That is exactly the point of my journey. The Minch is the very place of my parent’s last breath, their last embrace. Their final moments were all on those treacherous waters. I have never had closure, and I now realise that it was beyond selfish to drag you all of you on this personal mission but I must finish this. I need answers. I need to at least experience the sea myself, there will be answers in this journey I can feel it,” Keith grasps the charms on the chain around his neck and prays that they provide him with some kind of strength and protection like his mother had claimed they would.

“Keith Kogane, you crazy bastard,” Zethrid mutters to herself

“I support you Keith,” the whole crew goes silent as a previously hidden figure emerges to bring her opinion to the table. “I know what it feels like feel the loss of loved ones. My father and older brother were thought to have perished in the oceans off the Sound of Monach. If it wasn’t for my rogue expedition in those waters, I would have never discovered their shipwreck on one of the small islands off the coast and their barely surviving bodies on the beach waving me down. I can’t guarantee this outcome but we can provide our captain some closure. There is courage in facing the unknown Kogane, and I understand the pain it brings. He is just asking for us to take him there, to look for something that will give him answers. And although I despise liars and do not stand for being manipulated, I can forgive and forget for these circumstances. I will help you on your mission.” 

“Thank you, Pidge,” Keith genuinely smiles at the teenage girl and she subtly nods at him.

“And what if we don’t agree to follow your lead?” Griffin stumbles from below deck with his arm slumped around Kinkade’s shoulders. His face is grimacing and his other arm is bandaged tightly, blotched patches of blood make themselves barely visible below the cloth.

“That is your choice to make and I won’t stop you,” Keith sneers, “If you wish to leave, I hope you don’t mind swimming.”

Griffin smirks and raises his shoulders, “It’s probably better than being on this ship with you, but I must oblige. My shoes are too expensive to ruin in the salt water.”

“Why did you wear them then?” Axca snorts and gives him a light punch on the arm, it definitely wasn’t a playful punch.

“Then its settled, all those in favour of making the journey with Keith as our captain to the Minch, say aye,” Shiro exclaims. What follows is a unanimous vote for the notion. Keith can’t help but let a smile spread across his face, not only had a weight been lifted from his shoulders and the truth was out, but he now has support.

“Well, set a course for the Minch, we have a long journey ahead,” Keith holds the railing facing the back end of the ship watching the crew hurry to get The Marmora moving once more. 

For once, he didn't feel so alone.

 

* * *

 

Lance had never felt more alone in his life.

They had been sailing for only an hour and Lance could already feel the difference throughout his whole body. Alien is he only way he could think to describe it. As soon as he had set foot on the boat, his legs began to wobble, and not in the way that most people’s did upon entering a ship. He could feel his skin tingling and prickling, it felt new and electric, like something inside of his body was trying to make itself known. He just didn’t know what it was.

In the second hour, the chills in his legs became so intense that he was forced to sit slumped against the foremast, watching the waves pass around him swiftly, crashing against the sides of the boat and spraying in his face. He felt paralysed from the waist down and all he could do was watch as his legs discoloured, morphing into the same colour as the shimmering scales on his neck.

When the ship was within 5 kilometres of the Minch the real changes began to occur. Lance couldn’t believe his eyes as he watched his two legs in front of him merge. It wasn’t like they became one but they were stuck together tightly and no matter how much he tried he couldn’t separate them.

“Mother! What is this?” Lance shrieked and began squirming furiously. He tried to pry his hands between his legs but there was no use, they were bound together.

“Stay calm love, you will be okay I promise. We are nearly there,” his mother wipes the tears from Lance’s cheeks and puts her arms around him. Her presence calmed him for only a brief moment before another change occurred. 

In one second, his legs are his, tan and human, flesh and bone. In another they are no longer there, replaced by a slim long tail that curls around on the deck. The scales are the same iridescent blue that is featured along his neck and the fins on the end of the tail are clear and broad, with blue sparkles glittering their surface. The tail reaches beyond where his legs had begun, forming just above his waist. 

“Oh my gods, what is-“ Lance began hyperventilating at the sight before him. He must’ve accidentally drank some of the sailor’s alcohol. These hallucinations are so real, and his legs are so incredibly heavy. He breathes in sharp, shallow breaths that lead to his eventual collapse. 

His mother can only watch and hold his unconscious body next to her, hoping that his father will know what to do. 

As if by the actions of fate itself, his mother heard a familiar voice boom across the surface of the ocean, shaking the sailors on board to their core but relieving her in a way that nothing else could. She stands quickly and runs towards the bow of the ship. She grasps the edge of the boat unceremoniously and begins yelling out to the figures below. 

“I need to see your chief! Bring him to me, it is an emergency!”

“What makes you think you deserve your demise at the hand of our chief?” An unnamed blue man hissed at her, but she stood her ground nonetheless. She continued to plea and argue that she needed to see the chief but the blue men had the audacity to laugh at her, “You mortal, nothing about you will interest the chief.” 

“What is that you say?” A larger and more fearsome blue man emerges from below the surface, his eyes are a direct reflection of the ocean and sky, blending together into ferocious storm. “You do not speak or act like that towards her, you hear me!” His voice is so loud that the crew covers their ears and the other blue men back away cautiously. 

“Edward! Thank the gods you are here. It is Lance, he is transforming and I didn’t know what to do, you must know how to help him,” she gasped for air and she could see her son severely shivering in the corner of her eye, “Please.”

“He needs to be in the ocean, he will not survive outside of it until he learns how to control his powers. The power he may posses will be beyond our knowledge, but I do know that he must start by being in the Minch, throw him over!”

“You want me to throw him over? You must be joking,” she pleaded, not ever wanting to leave her son.

“You must Isabella, I’m sorry,” the chief of the blue men wore a pained but knowing expression. Isabella now knows what he must have felt, he had told her that he couldn’t see their son until he was of age. He had lived all those years without their son and now it was her turn to do the same.

“Help me will you! I can’t lift him on my own!” Isabella shouts at the crew who stand around the boat looking absolutely dumbfounded at the scene before them. They quickly rush to lift the quickly deteriorating Lance. Isabella never wanted to let go of him, she wanted to stay with him no matter the cost, but she knew that letting him go is what will keep him alive. She silently prayed that one day she will be able to see his beautiful blue eyes once more and to feel his heartbeat next to hers.

“I love you, mijo. Lance I love you so much,” Isabella trembled as the tears cascade from her eyes, landing on the unsuspecting boy in her arms. She nodded silently to the crew members helping her carry him and they hauled him over the edge of the boat. “Lance!”

The crew watched in silence as the lifeless body of the boy fell limply into the water. Before he could hit the water, Edward swam hastily to catch him. As soon as his body made contact with the Minch and his tail ws able to lay in the waters of the ocean, his body ceased its seizing. Isabella released a breath she hadn’t realised she had been holding and removes her hand from above her heart.

“I promise I will care for him Isabella, he will meet you again one day,” he embraces his son tightly and releases him to look at his calm face, totally unaware of the changes that are about to hit him, “But for now my love, I must push you into the darkness.”

“Edward, what are you talking about?”

The chief didn't speak another word, he simply closed the lids of his eyes and his face completely relaxed. He summoned a small wave that is just tall enough to splash over the deck of the ship in front of him, he wills it to drench the crew and the boat they stand on. Before it makes contact, he enchants the waters so that those it covers will forget about the blue men of the Minch. As the wave comes crashing down, the rest of the blue men sink below the surface and return to their homes in the deep water caves. The chief keeps his face just visible above the water and pushes the boat back towards their returning course.

Isabella’s face is drained and she looks as if she is tying exceptionally hard to remember something that she can’t quite place in her mind.

“I love you Isabella, I’m so sorry,” the chiefs final words are hushed and once they are ushered he submerges himself and Lance below the surface to return to his people.

What he doesn’t see is the concerned look that Isabella shoots towards the exact spot where he had been floating. She tilts her head for just a moment, like she was on the verge of a break through, like the thing that was pursuing her thoughts was hiding just below the surface. But no matter how hard she tries she just can’t fathom it, and she turns back to help her crew sail home.

This isn’t exactly what Lance remembers, his father’s powers do quite the job of concealing what truly happened that day and all the other days before that from him. He is completely unaware of that fact that he never used to hide below the surface but what he does remember beyond that point of blankness is the face of a strangely familiar stranger and her caring blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we are finally getting some more information about Lance! I was so excited to write about Lance that I decided to add in some flashbacks of Lance's past. If it is confusing, all will be explained soon. For now, I will start chapter 3 and hopefully deliver some of that klance content I know you are all waiting for very soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick end note to say that while this does begin quite angsty and will be like that for a few chapters, it will get more lighthearted. Also, Lance will make an appearance soon, even though he may subtly have already :) if you like this please let me know and I'm always open to constructive criticism (especially if its something like a spelling mistake because I'm quite prone to them). I'm currently working on chapter 2, so stay tuned for that.


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